


Apotheosis

by Aviantei



Series: Sparagmos [2]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: AU, Basically it's a mythology AU, Gen, Not really excessive violence but it's still there, One Shot, Sparagmos Verse, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:34:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21927541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aviantei/pseuds/Aviantei
Summary: [Sparagmos AU; One Shot] "There have been legends for millennia about those born with great power, who can wield magic, and who can stand up to the Gods." "Like those who defeated the Eldest Gods and brought an end to their era. They were always born with unusual coloring as a result of the magic within their system." The six of them who met in that war held that power.
Series: Sparagmos [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1498259
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	Apotheosis

**Author's Note:**

> This one shot was originally posted on June 17, 2016. After writing "Sparagmos," I started thinking more about how the other characters would play around, especially because of how I set up the GoM in that one shot. Also, I learned the word "Apotheosis," which essentially means "birth of a god." And, thus, we have this story.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

**Apotheosis**

By: Aviantei

A _Kuroko no Basuke_ One Shot

* * *

The draft for war was a fact of life, but that didn’t make it any harder to accept when it came to your door. Even more so when a fringe village like theirs received a visit from soldiers. Unlike many others, Tetsuya accepted his call with grace. His mother did her best to remain chipper. Shigehiro, his lifelong friend and neighbor, slapped Tetsuya’s shoulder and made cracks about the latter’s shoddy sword technique. “You’ll probably get sent home once they see how awful you are to fight beside,” he quipped, laughing to ease the tension.

“The battles aren’t as hard anymore,” Chinatsu assured her son. She had lived in the greater warring period of the Gods, where bloodshed spread far and wide. Now, those battles still waged, but somewhere far away from them. “You’ll serve your time, and then you’ll come back. You won’t even notice it.”

Tetsuya smiled, even though he didn’t expect to live long enough to serve his time. Even with his tricks, there would be only so long he could take it. At the very least, he could try to last as long as possible, to delaying the draft from returning to his hometown once more.

“I’ll do my best,” he said, not sounding as confident as he had wanted. Empty promises filled the air like dregs of smoke. Attempting to play along, he nudged Shigehiro’s side. “You better prepare yourself. They’ll be begging for you to take my place in no time.”

As children, they had sparred with the tools they were supposed to be farming with. Shigehiro had always won, but Tetsuya enjoyed it nonetheless. Now, as adults, they were giving each other farewells before one of them was sent to the battlefield.

Shigehiro snorted. “And I’ll come show you up so bad the enemy won’t ever see it coming.” He hung his arm around Tetsuya’s shoulders and dragged him towards the door, gesturing for Chinatsu to step inside first. “Now let’s get some food in you. I bet you way less than the sword they’ll try to get you to carry.”

All three of them were filled with a fear that none of them were willing to speak.

* * *

The wars of the Gods fell across the lands centuries ago before anyone could even stop them. The God of Destruction spread battlefields as simple as children blowing seeds into the wind. The others followed through on ideals of conquest or protection. Those who worshipped them prayed for assistance, and they gods themselves stepped onto the battlefields.

The fight Tetsuya walked into was not one of those battles. No gods would descend among them, for most bothered not to pray to them anymore. Tetsuya had been raised to pray to the Eldest Gods, the creators of the universe, who hadn’t walked upon Earth for millennia.

Instead, the battle they were fighting was a remnant. Once the Gods had abandoned them for other nations, Teiko had fallen into chaos. The army Tetsuya joined was just one of many still trying to settle disputes for land and resources that had been left unsolved.

Perhaps one day the people would achieve what they were looking for, or maybe they would give up. Maybe an era of peace would come, and maybe it would spread. Maybe the Gods would no longer have cause to spread war.

It was a nice dream, but Tetsuya would never live to see it.

* * *

“What do you fight for?”

“ _Huh?_ ”

“I’m asking your aspirations in battle. While you’re at it, I’ll need your name as well.”

Tetsuya glanced over his shoulder to the others in his barrack. They journey had worn him out, as had the pressure of standing at attention while he and his draft mates were lectured on the importance of battle, their duties, and the upcoming training schedule. The ranks of to-be soldiers in dull uniform had blended everyone into an unrecognizable blob. Tetsuya, with his sky blue hair, had stood out amongst the others.

As did the two speaking behind him.

A soldier with tanned skin and dark blue hair lounged across his bed, looking angry to have been disturbed. The one who stood before him had a shock of red hair on his head, and the bright eyes to match. Three of them of unusual color in one place was concerning enough, as was what it implied. Tetsuya turned back to his back, unpacking what little belongings he had been allowed, but the conversation continued.

“Aspirations?” the boy from the bed drawled. “Are you stupid? I want to fight stronger opponents.” He scoffed, and Tetsuya nearly dropped the book he had found at the bottom of his pack. It had been a gift from his mother, one she couldn’t have afforded on a regular basis. “We’re cannon fodder here anyway. I’ll fight whoever I can until I kick the bucket.”

Tetsuya tucked his back beneath his bed. He sat down, propped his book open in his lap, and tried to go unseen.

“Foreseeing your defeat so easily?” the redhead asked. His voice ran smooth, like a creek under sunshine. “You’ll never be able to emerge victorious like that.”

“Oh, and you’re so much better.” The dark skinned soldier rolled his eyes and stood up. His long limbs gave him an edge in height in comparison to his shorter comrade. Tetsuya hoped the infighting wouldn’t turn into a scuffle. “You look like you haven’t seen the sun a day in your life. They must be getting desperate if they’re recruiting from the rich now. You won’t last a day.”

“They must also be getting desperate if they’re recruiting brutes like you,” a deeper voice commented. Tetsuya looked to the source, finding another soldier with hair the green of a deep forest moss. The dark-skinned soldier turned on his new opponent, crossing the room with a few quick strides. “You’ll fight in a war to encounter stronger opponents? Why didn’t you enlist yourself in the first place?”

“If they would’ve let me, I would have. Stupid age restrictions. Like there’s anything humane in this country anymore.”

The red-haired soldier stepped forward, though with much less malice. With the closer proximity, it was easier to make out the smooth lines of youth that shaped his face. Tetsuya forgot all about the book he had been attempting to read. “And I take it you have a different goal in this war?”

“I’ll protect my family,” the green-haired soldier said. “That’s what I did at home, and I’ll do the same here. If it’s for them, I’ll fight with honor.”

The dark-skinned soldier grumbled something that involved two insults and one expletive. The red-haired boy smiled. “A fine aspiration. May I have your name?”

“Shintaro.”

“And I’m Seijuro.” Tetsuya memorized the syllables. They wouldn’t matter as much on the battlefield, but for now, in close quarters, it would do good to know who his immediate comrades were. “And you never answered my question of the same.”

Another snort. “Daiki.”

“You guys are so loud.” On the bed next to Tetsuya, a fellow soldier stirred. He looked even taller than the others, though that was only by a judge of his lanky limbs, sprawled across the facsimile of a mattress. His head sported a pale shade of purple, not unlike the faintest crevices of a sky at twilight. “The commander said we could rest this evening, so we should sleep all we want…”

The higher pitch of the massive figure’s voice caught Tetsuya off guard. Seijuro chuckled. “If you sleep too much you’ll miss dinner.”

With that, the purple-haired soldier sat back up, groaning. Food seemed to be a matter of importance to him. “‘M Atsushi,” he mumbled in introduction. “I got pulled into the draft because everyone said I’d be good at fighting. Didn’t want to leave, though. If I could’ve stayed home and ate, I would have.”

“Food is a reward that comes from work,” Seijuro said. If Daiki’s accusation of a sheltered life held true, that statement wouldn’t have supported it. “If we work to bring an end to this war, then you won’t have much else to do than return home.”

Daiki barked out a laugh, returned to his bed. “You’re kidding,” he drawled. “You think we can win this war? What do you have that the generations of soldiers before us didn’t have?”

“I think it’s a natural ambition. And I intend to succeed.” The sheer confidence in the words brought Daiki’s words to a halt. Shintaro regarded Seijuro with a calm expression, though his eyes held concern. Seijuro’s smile remained as he looked Tetsuya in the eyes. The boy froze. “And what about you?”

No one noticed his presence unless they knew to look for him. And even then they weren’t always successful. That had always been Tetsuya’s talent. It still worked, judging by the stunned looks on the other soldiers’ faces. But Seijuro looked at him, his gaze not once wavering.

Five soldiers stood in the barracks, each of them young, just qualifying as men. Each of them held color in their hair, in their eyes, a collection so sudden that Tetsuya wouldn’t be surprised if it were the makings of the Elder Gods.

“I’m Tetsuya,” he said, swallowing his nervousness. He pressed his fingers to the comforting fingers of his book, wishing for courage. “And I want to keep my home as safe as possible.”

* * *

Achieving that aspiration was easier said than done. True to Shigehiro’s assessment, Tetsuya could hardly keep up with the first day’s worth of drills. His family had been merchants, but the physical needs differed from those who hunted, or even those who farmed. He collapsed around lunch, made it to the table on shaking legs, and threw up his lunch on the first post-meal run.

His barrack mates fared much better. Daiki’s muscled form held up in any situation, and his first sparring match showed his skill as a street fighter. Shintaro had been a huntsman, and his skill with a bow and arrow surpassed all others. Atsushi, despite his laziness and whining all the way, had the strength of a farmer and could outlast anyone through sheer defense. Even Seijuro kept up without trouble, and each successful session made Daiki more suspicious on his upbringing by the day.

The redhead remained silent on the matter.

Daiki’s assessment that the army was desperate, however, proved to be true. Their training expedited, expected to be finished in two months’ time. Tetsuya felt certain that he wouldn’t be ready, even if he had a lifetime of preparation. His own combat drills proved pitiful, and any free moment left him in rest, often accompanied by Atsushi.

He was too tired to even write a letter home, though his mother and Shigehiro did not abandon the duty, their first correspondence arriving at the end of the first week.

Chinatsu wrote about the blossoming summer warmth and business. She struggled to keep up on her own, but Shigehiro helped with business. This meant he was working both for her and his own family, but he claimed he was fine. They both wished Tetsuya well, and asked for a reply when he could manage it.

Not wanting to lose his connection to home, Tetsuya penned out a letter. It drained him so much that he nearly fell asleep in his ink after he finished writing.

* * *

A week became three, and Tetsuya had hardly improved. He no longer wanted to throw up after every meal, but his skills were still meager. They had outfitted him with a number of weapons. Nothing had stuck until Seijuro had recommended daggers. The practical use in war field was limited, but the commanders took anything necessary to survival. They didn’t even feign sending Tetsuya home.

They were as desperate as everyone thought. When random men came to the camp, asking for enrollment, they were taken in, though those were far and few between. Others were drafted from other regions of Teiko, and were tossed in with the current training group.

“The battles are drawing closer,” Shintaro muttered as they stood in line, watching the newest members of their tiny army were assigned to groups. “We’ve been losing ground on the front lines. We’ll need to numbers to stand a chance.”

“Or skill,” Seijuro added. By now, their group had grown used to his confident attitude, though Daiki still rolled his eyes. “Depending on where we engage the enemy, we could gain a tactical advantage. If they retreat towards the mountains…” Reciting the current battlefield from memory without a map was another of those irregularities their group accepted.

Tetsuya wondered if it was something else, if he could dare hope—

“Seijuro,” Captain Kozo called, bringing the whispers to a halt, “you take Ryota.”

“Sir!”

From the last of the recruits, a blonde stepped towards them, grinning despite the circumstances. “Another rich brat,” Daiki grumbled. Tetsuya didn’t know what to say to that. Yet another odd color to add to their collection. It was likely on purpose, but not for the reason he wanted it to be. Akashi introduced each member in turn to Ryota, who jumped when he noticed Tetsuya’s presence.

_No, definitely not._

“We have free training after this, right?” Daiki asked, showing initiative. “I’ll take you on, newbie. See if you’re worth it.”

“Whoa, a fight right away? Sure, I’m down!” Ryota seemed as sunny as his smile. Shintaro didn’t look impressed by his energy. “But only if you let me watch you spar someone else first, alright?”

Daiki laughed, already stretching his arms out. “You think you can figure out my strategy just be watching once? It’s your funeral. Hey, Atsushi, you fight me.”

“Huh? No way. Your strikes are too heavy.”

“I’ll go,” Akashi said, stepping forward. “Maybe this time you’ll last more than a few minutes.”

“You sure talk tough for such a scrawny little shit.”

Akashi didn’t retort, just turned to escort Ryota to the sparring grounds. But not before looking to Tetsuya, the order in expression clear.

_Come watch._

* * *

A number of other soldiers were clanging swords and shouting battle cries by the time they had found a set of armor to fit Ryota, but their group drew a crowd all the same. Being the top trainees across the board meant others took the opportunity to learn or spectate. A few bets for chore duties traded hands. Shintaro had deemed his own training more important than watching, but Atsushi would take any excuse to not take action. Tetsuya did as expected and waited beside Ryota, unsure of what to expect.

Daiki wielded heavy weapons, a broad sword at the ready. Akashi, on the other hand, favored lighter weapons, his stiletto looking unimpressive at a glance, but able to best any opponent that came after him. In his entire time at the training camp, he had gone undefeated, even by the instructors.

Maybe that was why they overlooked the spectacles that followed whenever members of Tetsuya’s unit practiced.

“One on one, no holds barred,” Ryota called, setting the specifications. A saber hung at his side, ready to be used. Tetsuya fiddled with the handles of his daggers, feeling inadequate. “Fight ends after fifteen minutes or one opponent simulates a fatal blow.” Daiki grinned. “Begin!”

Red and blue faced each other down. Soldiers still muttered, unsure of what to expect. Tetsuya knew Daiki was powerful (the tan boy would take it easy on Tetsuya when they sparred, but still win), but Akashi moved as if he could foresee any strikes before they came. When neither of them moved, Seijuro smiled, lowering his stiletto to his side.

“I’ll allow you the first shot, Daiki.”

_Boom._

Daiki charged forward at the opening, his sword striking the dirt and leaving a dent. Seijuro had already moved behind him, aiming a blow at his comrade’s neck. Daiki slipped his broadsword from the ground like a knife disconnecting with butter, scattering dirt and pebbles, and parried the move. Ryota whistled in appreciation.

Tetsuya couldn’t help but agree. Even if he couldn’t hit that hard, if he could just move _fast enough_ —

Daiki’s blade made another crashing impact with the ground; Seijuro had stepped back just out of range. With Daiki before him, Seijuro swung up. The stiletto nicked Daiki’s chin, tossing drops of blood in the air. Undeterred, Daiki swapped the grip on his blade, launching a horizontal swing at point blank range.

Seijuro blocked with his stiletto as he retreated, backing the dull side the blade with the opposite forearm. Lesser weapons would have broken with the impact, but Seijuro had brought his with him. It was worth much more than weapon Daiki had pulled from the armory. Metal scraped against metal, both fighters coming off from the encounter without any damage.

Daiki usually lost to Seijuro at this point. Soldiers tried to change their bets. Atsushi grunted in acknowledgement.

“Alright, fine,” Daiki said, hoisting his sword up over his shoulder. “I’ve been saving this one, but seeing as this is a special occasion…”

Daiki grinned. Tetsuya froze, a chill dripping down his spine. Ryota and Atsushi had the same reaction, but no one else looked unsettled. Daiki’s skin appeared to be rippling, even from his casual position. Seijuro watched, not taking the obvious bait.

Within seconds, Daiki was airborne. Blue flickered around his silhouette, too dark to have reflected from the sun.

Seijuro smirked. “If I let you unleash something like that on the camp, I wouldn’t be doing a very good job of keeping you in line.”

He raised his own blade, pointing it towards Daiki, who was descending fast. Seijuro flicked his stiletto in a short pattern, Tetsuya catching traces of red trailing after the tip. Daiki’s form broke with a curse, one hand slipping from his sword’s grip. Seijuro pulled off a disbarment in seconds, his blade hovering over Daiki’s neck when the tanned boy hit the ground.

The crowd erupted in cheers. Soldiers lamented their losses and celebrated their victories. Tetsuya’s mouth felt dry. Seijuro bowed once to the crowd and crossed over to Ryota. “I hope that was fitting enough of a demonstration.”

“That was incredible!”

“Bah, enough talk,” Daiki grumbled, raising himself from his loss. He wiped the streak of blood from his cheek and spit. “No take backs on wanting to fight me, newbie. You’re gonna help me improve my mood.”

* * *

“The rules are the same as before.” This time, Akashi stood as the arbitrator. “Do try not to cause any catastrophic damage, Daiki. Begin.”

Not wanting to accept a lecture from the one who had just beaten him out from a crowd, Daiki remained silent as he looked over Ryota’s form. Tetsuya did the same. The blonde held his blade in a casual stance, similar to Shigehiro’s own style. He hummed a bit, then stopped in realization. “Guess I better get into the right mindset. Though the blade difference makes it tricky… Well, gotta challenge yourself to learn.”

Without missing a beat, he adjusted his stance, saber positioned at the same angle as Seijuro’s resting position. The emulated swordsman didn’t look surprised. The difference in length and width didn’t do much in Ryota’s favor.

Daiki snorted. “If you think imitating someone is gonna get you anywhere, you’ve got another thing—”

Ryota lunged forward, imitating Seijuro’s direct strike. Even with the longer reach of the blade, Daiki ducked aside in time, but not without some difficulties. “I’m not as nice as our captain to let you take the first strike…”

“Why you little…”

Daiki grinned as he swung his blade. Ryota didn’t imitate Seijuro’s blocking maneuver, instead backing up to avoid the arc of metal. Daiki swapped from horizontal to vertical, thudding another miniature sinkhole into the ground. Ryota stayed out of harm’s way but stumbled, landing on his behind. Daiki had already raised his broadsword to the sky once more.

“And I’m not nice enough to let you stop making such an easy target of yourself.”

Ryota yelped, rolling out of the way towards the edge of the crowd. Daiki continued his advance, striking the ground at intervals. The surrounding soldiers backed up, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire. Ryota managed to roll onto his feet, then dived to Daiki’s right, skidding along the ground. Regaining his footing, Ryota swung at Daiki’s back in the same manner as Seijuro earlier.

“He only saw you fight once, though…” Tetsuya mumbled despite himself.

Seijuro heard. “I know. Impressive, isn’t it?”

Daiki parried Ryota just as easily as he had his redheaded compatriot. Ryota flicked his blade up in the gap. Recognizing the move, Daiki leaned back. “I’ve seen that move before. Think I’d fall for it twice?”

A fresh line of blood ran next to the already closed first move. The length of the blade plus Ryota’s longer arms had allowed for a range difference Daiki hadn’t accounted for. The blonde retreated before facing retaliation, sunlight glinting off the piercings in his ears.

“Now, for the grand finale!” Ryota announced, still grinning. And then, his stance changed again, both hands gripping onto the saber’s hilt. It didn’t match the weapon at all, and Daiki’s form was hard to trace because of how much street fighting he mixed into his battles, but Tetsuya recognized the traces of the style. Studying not just one person from a single fight, but both of them, was beyond his imagination. “You charged up a little bit like this, and…”

Ryota went airborne, not gaining as much height as Daiki. For a moment, Tetsuya thought he could see a faint gold outline on him—but this time it was just the sun. Daiki’s expression fell to disinterested, and he mumbled something Tetsuya couldn’t quite catch over the crowd. Daiki leapt up to meet Ryota, his broadsword securing the reach advantage and knocking aside the blonde’s saber in an instant. Daiki grabbed onto his opponent’s extended arm, swinging him straight to the earth.

Ryota looked up to find Daiki’s boot across his chest. “Whoa, you’re amazing!” he declared once he caught his breath. “I don’t know what kind of move you used before, but even I couldn’t replicate it. What was that? You gotta show me.”

“Keep it down. You’re annoying.”

Daiki seemed to have no interest in Ryota’s compliments. Atsushi had realized the reprieve from duty was over and slunk into the crowd, though his massive height made it difficult to do so. Tetsuya felt shaken, unsure of how to describe what he had just seen.

“I’m sure you have some questions.” Seijuro read his mind as always. “Why don’t we go visit Shintaro, Tetsuya? We’ll be more than happy to answer them.”

* * *

With most soldiers still loitering around the recent sparring match, most of the training grounds were void of people. Shintaro stood alone, knocked an arrow, and took aim. Tetsuya watched him fire, the arrow striking the center of the target with utter accuracy. Knowing the green-haired soldier didn’t like his practices interrupted, Tetsuya didn’t applaud as he normally would have.

Seijuro had no intentions of keeping his silence or distance and strode toward Shintaro. Having swapped out his metal armor for a leather set, he made no sound. When Shintaro fired his next arrow, Akashi took hold of the taller soldier’s arm and pointed the bow upwards. The arrow arced in the sky, its trajectory aiming for the ground.

The arrow glowed green, shifted directions in midair, and struck next to the previous arrow on the target. Having already seen displays from his other comrades, Tetsuya shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was.

Shintaro huffed and pulled his arm away from Seijuro, keeping his weapon pointed to the ground. “You could have just asked for a demonstration.”

“Your intentional shots never have the same impact as your misfires,” Seijuro retorted. Shintaro didn’t deny it. “Besides, I only needed one shot.” The redhead turned to Tetsuya. “You should see the damage he can do with a longbow.”

Tetsuya was very glad they were all on the same side in this war.

“What’s going on?” he asked. He wished he had his book in hand, the piece of home an antidote to his nerves. If he was right, then the two soldiers in front of him could take on an army themselves, let alone one under par trainee. “What you did here, and before…”

He wanted to ask.

The words seemed too unreal to let leave his lips.

“I thought you knew, carrying that book around,” Seijuro said. “That’s why I talked to the others first.” Shintaro set his bow on his back, and the three converged in the middle of the practice fields. “There have been legends for millennia about those born with great power, who can wield magic, and who can stand up to the Gods.”

“Like those who defeated the Eldest Gods and brought an end to their era.” Tetsuya knew the myth by heart. His mother used to tell him at night when they walked under the stars, and Tetsuya had passed those words to Shigehiro. “They were always born with unusual coloring as a result of the magic within their system. But the magic died out generations ago.”

“You know that’s not true,” Shintaro said. “It’s a small power, but you have it, too. We all do—did you confirm or deny on that new recruit?”

Seijuro nodded. “Ryota’s conscious control is nonexistent. But his magic has resulted in a perfect memorization and copy system for what he sees. If he were to trigger that ability consciously, he might even be able to replicate other magic users someday.” Shintaro processed the information. “Even so, he’ll be an asset on the battlefield.”

Tetsuya watched the exchange. He had hoped there were others like him, but it seemed they were in another class than him. “I don’t think I’ll be the same,” he said, drawing red and green gazes. “I hardly have any control over my power either, and all I can do is hide in plain sight. Once people notice me, I’m visible.” He wanted to add that whatever plan Seijuro and the others were plotting wouldn’t have any use for him, but admitting it would have hurt worse than all the pain of the past three weeks combined.

Despite the speech, Seijuro didn’t look convinced. “I disagree.”

“As do I.”

The double refutation left Tetsuya stunned.

“Your ability is unpracticed and undeveloped, much like Ryota’s,” Seijuro continued. _I can’t even do half the things he can._ “But it has a different potential. What you lack in brute strength, you make up for in finesse and coordination. In group drills, you’re always able to keep in line with your comrades and provide backup.”

“That’s just because—” _Because I was only ever on the sidelines while Shigehiro fought._

Seijuro cut off the objection with a glare. A flash of red aura flashed across his eyes. “Your ability is best used in tandem with others. They provide an opening for you to slip out of the line of sight. If you could control your power to go completely invisible, then disarming or even killing distracted opponents would be a cakewalk for you.”

Tetsuya pried his tongue away from the roof of his mouth. “Just…what are you trying to say…?”

“He’s saying that if we train your magic, you’ll become a trump card,” Shintaro answered. The words sounded more ridiculous than the myths they had recited. “The five of us hold true in combat ability. My shots never miss. Daiki wields horrendous force and unusual technique. Atsushi can provide an impenetrable defense. Seijuro houses battle precognition and the means to counter even magic users. Even the new recruit’s imitation ability will let him fight in a number of styles to fit the situation.” Shintaro locked eyes with Tetsuya. “And you will provide a way to penetrate any defense and catch our opponents off guard. Winning this war will be an easy feat.”

_Winning…the war?_

_If I could…stop the draft from ever reaching home…_

Was such a thing possible? With just the six of them?

“You two aren’t…playing a joke on me are you?”

Seijuro shook his head. “Why don’t you meet me outside the barracks after dinner? I have something to show you.”

Tetsuya agreed, praying to the Eldest Gods that this was genuine.

* * *

Seijuro excused himself from the dining hall before anyone else had even finished eating. Tetsuya waited a few minutes, offered the remains of his plate to Atsushi (who accepted them without hesitation), and did the same. The night air felt calming, stars and a quarter moon providing light.

Tetsuya found Seijuro outside the barracks as agreed on. The redhead’s skin shone pale in the night. His stiletto hung at his side, one hand baring a lamp hosting a low flame, the other Tetsuya’s daggers. Tetsuya accepted his weapons, hooking them to his belt with questions swirling in his mind. What did Seijuro need to show him that involved weapons?

“For general safety,” he answered when questioned. “We’re traveling quite some way, and it’s best to be prepared.”

“We’re heading outside the camp?” Tetsuya grew suspicious of the path they were taking. Sure enough, it led towards the edge of camp. The rickety buildings disappeared, leaving only dirt and trees in the distance. “The commander—”

“Commander Kozo already approved this venture. No need to worry unless someone else spots us.” Even the commander’s word wasn’t enough? Tetsuya could agree their actions were suspicious; getting accused of turning traitor wouldn’t be too out there of an accusation. Seijuro cast a moonlit smile to his comrade. “I’m hoping if worst comes to worst, you’ll be able to negate any such worries.”

Tetsuya kept his mouth shut and followed Seijuro towards the trees. There was a nearby forest, where soldiers took turns hunting game as part of their duties. Shintaro was a natural at it. Tetsuya had attributed it to the soldier’s hunting history, but maybe his magic had played a part in it.

“How did we all get assigned to the same unit?” Tetsuya asked. They were far enough from the base that no one would have heard them as more than snippets of wind. Without the cluster of battle preparing men, the air smelt fresh and clean. “It couldn’t have been coincidence.”

“Oh?” Seijuro looked into the distance, then adjusted their path a bit to the right to keep them on course. Having helped his mother transport goods to other towns, Tetsuya had no trouble keeping pace. “Considering we all stick out, I think trying to make us blend in with the others would have been a poor move. We’d have been ostracized simply because we looked different, whether or not people knew the legends.” Tetsuya knew that true enough. There was a reason Shigehiro was his closest and only friend. “What you should be questioning is how we all happened to be recruited at the same time.”

“Ah.” That was a better question. Coincidence could only stretch so far. “You mean we were all chosen to be trained together?”

The bare ground gave way to bits of grass and the sharp scent of leaves. Seijuro adjusted his footing. “There are plenty of people on the lookout for any whiff of those born with magic. Births of unusual color attract attention and spread rumors anyways.” Seijuro paused to check their path in the trees, and chose without an obvious tell. “When several children are born in the same time, it’s meant to signal a coming change in the world. And we’re all adults now. The Commander chose this in an attempt to direct fate.”

“The Commander did?” Kozo stood in a unique position over all the upcoming soldiers and their trainers. Tetsuya had never spoken to him directly, not even to be scolded. The other trainers handled that. “And what do you mean direct fate? And _what_ are you doing?” Seijuro had stopped to assess their path gain, but Tetsuya caught the flash of aura. “You keep channeling magic to your eyes but I can’t tell what you’re doing.”

“Sorry.” Seijuro kept a hand on a tree and turned to Tetsuya. “Like Shintaro said, my abilities include precognition and assessment. I can check the upcoming move of my opponent and even get a general grasp on their abilities, including magic.” He pushed past the tree, leaving Tetsuya to follow. “I can also check to see if there’s been activity in an area. Very helpful for finding hidden locations.”

Tetsuya gaped at his comrade’s back. “Someone’s living out here and no one at the camp knows about it.”

“Yes.” Seijuro stopped at a thicket of brambles, found a vine, and tugged the curtain of fauna away with ease. “As for your question about fate, I’m not the best person to ask that. Satsuki is more knowledgeable.”

“Who’s—” The question died on Tetsuya’s lips as he stepped through the opening.

Surrounded by brambles like the one they had just passed through rested a small campsite. There was a singular tent, shaped more like a cone than the triangular prism shape Tetsuya was used to. A small campfire sat in the center, its embers low. Various other blankets and tools sat about, a sure sign of someone living there. The more obvious sign came when the flap of the tent opened, and a person poked their head out.

“Oh, guests!” The higher pitch of voice and dress swishing around her body showed the camper as female. There were a few women scattered into the training camp’s ranks, but Tetsuya didn’t know any of them well enough to speak on a regular basis. “Nice to see you, Sei. And you brought someone new, too. The shadow boy?”

“Yes,” Seijuro answered, dropping the bramble entryway behind him. The woman strode over to Tetsuya, excitement dancing in her features. Though he wasn’t certain with just the fire for light, the blue-haired soldier thought her long locks were a shade of pink. “Tetsuya, this is Satsuki. She’s a Seer.”

Tetsuya bowed his head in greeting, not asking for an explanation. Like the legend of those who could stand up to Gods, he knew the words of his book well enough. As a Seer, Satsuki could read into the flow of Fate and dictate prophecies. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Satsuki laughed—a warm sound that reminded Tetsuya of his mother. “No need to be so formal,” she chided. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Dai and the others. And I must say, you go beyond expectations.” The nickname for the rash soldier left Tetsuya in awe. “Oh, you caught that? Dai’s my childhood friend.”

“Two children of unusual color in one place stirred a ruckus,” Seijuro noted. Having grown up with Shigehiro, Tetsuya understood. “Satsuki is here because the Commander doesn’t want to waste her ability, but keeping her at the camp would draw unwanted attention. Her predictive abilities will be incredibly helpful on the battlefield.”

“Ready and waiting to serve!” She took Tetsuya’s hand, leading him to the campfire. “Now don’t be shy. Come and sit down.”

Satsuki prodded Tetsuya into a seat before sitting herself. Seijuro joined them, forming the points of a triangle around the fire. Tetsuya looked across the two. They had known about each other for a while, but the secret was understandable. Having a Seer would be a major turning point, though— “Seijuro, didn’t you say you had precognition as well?” Tetsuya questioned.

“Yes, but nowhere on a scale as large as Satsuki’s,” the redhead answered. Satsuki beamed, hands folded in her lap. “My foresight is limited to the immediate moment or person in front of me, and can only reach up to a span of half an hour in the future.” For someone that could only witness the present, that seemed impressive enough. “As I’m sure you know, Satsuki can see up to any point in the future for a much longer duration.”

“It is draining, though,” the woman admitted. “If a piece of the future gets through to me, I can handle it just find. If I go actively searching for a specific event or person or time, I can become exhausted quite fast.”

Tetsuya nodded. It wasn’t an ability to be played around with. Legends told of Seers who had lost their lives, attempting to see more possibilities than they could handle. While tragic fates lied in many of the old tales, the demise of a Seer could be prevented with a little precaution.

“But I hear that you have shadow magic.” Satsuki leaned closer, pink tinging her irises in aura. “Not what I would have expected from your coloring. Just looking at you, I would have said sky magic.”

Tetsuya remembered his mother humming in time with breezes and pushing dust from their home with gentle bursts of wind. He remembered trying to imitate her, unable to summon cyclones to his hands. When he couldn’t do it, Chinatsu had smiled and started taking him out at night, letting him slip away into the shadows before calling him back through whispers in the wind.

“My—” He hesitated, then looked between the two. Seijuro and Satsuki were like him. If anyone would understand, they would. Tetsuya cleared his throat. “My mother was. But I didn’t get her powers. She said I gained my father’s magic.”

Seijuro nodded. “Shadow magic often hides its presence. That’s its nature.” It was Tetsuya’s nature at least. “Since your mother was a magic user as well, your shadows cloaked themselves beneath her presence.”

“Brilliant!” Satsuki exclaimed, clapping her hands. “Even if someone has enough knowledge to peg you as a magic user, they’ll never guess what you’re capable of until it’s too late. You’ll be a wonderful asset.”

“I was thinking the same.” Seijuro bent up one knee, resting his arm on it. “In these first battles, it won’t matter much, but as time passes and we start to take on—“

“Wait a minute,” Tetsuya interjected. He hadn’t raised his voice much, but both Seijuro and Satsuki fell silent at his words. “I still don’t know what this is about. And I can’t even do anything but hide myself for a short period of time. My father never taught me.” He tried not to remember the early years of his life, of his mother lamenting her husband lost to a draft neither of them could escape. “I can’t take down an opponent by myself! Whatever you’re planning, I’m not going to do any good.”

Tetsuya’s breath came in ragged bursts. A wolf howled in the distance, urging on the cycles of the incomplete moon. The fire snapped, sending up a rush of sparks.

Tetsuya had half a mind to force his presence into the dark, but he didn’t dare.

“That’s not true at all, Tetsu,” Satsuki assured. She scooted closer to him, pulling his hands into hers. Tetsuya couldn’t think to object. “I’ve seen you in the future, along with everyone else. They’re incredible, but your presence will help turn many battles in our favor. With you, we can bring peace back to Teiko!”

Having never lived in a time of peace, it felt more like a myth than their own magic.

“We’re aiming for peace?” Tetsuya looked to Seijuro, remembering the redhead’s words on their first night in the barracks. “You really want to keep fighting to bring an end to the war?”

“I do.”

Tetsuya believed him, even if he didn’t believe his part.

“I know you don’t have a complete grip on your powers,” Seijuro continued, “but that can be fixed with practice.” Plain words didn’t hold much assurance in a situation like this. “We have a little over a month until we head into battle. With my analysis of your ability and Satsuki’s guidance, we should be able to pull your skills up to par.”

Things were going too fast. Tetsuya scrambled to keep up. “You mentioned the Commander trying to affect fate through us,” he said. Seijuro gestured to the Seer in front of Tetsuya. “Can you please tell me, Satsuki?”

Satsuki blinked at him, realized she was still holding his hands, and scooted back to her spot with a cough. “Yes,” she said. Seijuro seemed amused, but Tetsuya didn’t focus on him. “Well, you were born in Teiko, so you know we’ve been in a constant state of war and stalemate. The moment one battle ends, another begins somewhere else. Nothing substantial is gained, nothing substantial is lost. But, like the legends say, when multiple children of unusual color—when those who can stand up to gods are born and stand together, they can usher in a new era.

“I’ve seen that future.”

Tetsuya tried to imagine it, tried to imagine no threat of war. A country where his mother could sell her wares in peace. Where Shigehiro could grow old with a family.

Where Tetsuya’s father hadn’t disappeared before he could even enter his son’s memory.

“If all seven of us stand by each other, we’ll be able to stop this war,” Satsuki whispered, her eyes glowing again. Tetsuya couldn’t even guess at the sights she saw. “I want to make that future a reality, and Dai does, too. He says he’s here to fight, but he wants to make this world a better place.” The Seer sighed, closing her eyes. “ _The Age of Miracles…_ That’s the sort of future we can make together, Tetsu. Please help us?”

“It’s up to you,” Seijuro spoke. “I gave the same choice to the others. They’ve all agreed. If you do as well, then we’ll only need to convince Ryota.” It didn’t seem like a hard task. “I know you love your home, Tetsuya, so I don’t want to use them against you. But think of what you can do for them.”

“Stop.” Tetsuya held up a hand. “Do you really think…I can make a difference in this fight?”

“Absolutely,” Seijuro said as Satsuki added, “Of course!”

“Then I’ll do what I can.”

* * *

Tetsuya began to write another letter home in what free time he could muster.

There wasn’t much. Working on his magic required private training mixed in with the regular practice schedule. Since Tetsuya had a subconscious grasp on his ability to stay out of sight, he needed to extend that to a conscious manipulation to unlock his other abilities. Satsuki’s visions had seen him sinking through shadow, passing across another man’s eyes without ever being noticed, performing assassinations to cripple the opponent’s chain of command.

He was nowhere at that level yet, but he tried to move one step forward every day.

Tetsuya wrote of his companions, of their abilities. Their births like his, the varying circumstances that brought them together. He wrote of the bond they formed in the passing days, the connection of those always considered “unusual.”

He wrote of his progress in training, kept dull for his mother’s sake, but with enough detail to suffice for Shigehiro. He wrote of his increased stamina, of his growing aptitude with his daggers. He wrote of his new lessons with Shintaro in throwing knives, honing his accuracy. He wrote of his skirmishes with Daiki as a partner, and the battle style they were developing together.

He wrote of the hope he now held, a hope he wanted to pass on to his family. That they were foretold to bring about peace, and that they could achieve it. With comrades like his, tipping the scales would be possible, not just a fable. A legend like those of the Eldest Gods would be coming true.

And for the first time, he dared to write that he would return home alive.

* * *

“I’d apologize that we had to cut your training short, but now isn’t the time for such sentiments,” Captain Shuzo said at the head of the crowd. He wasn’t much older than they were, Tetsuya noticed, and yet he held a minor position in command. The wars had worn everyone down. “As you know, the situation is grim and we’ve been backed into a corner. If we don’t emerge victorious, you won’t have land to return to.”

The battlefield had changed just as Seijuro had predicted: that their army would be outnumbered and backed into a corner. The base Tetsuya and his fellow premature trainee graduates had marched to was just as thrown together as they were at the base of the mountain line.

“We’ll be conducting an ambush over the main mountain pass.” Shuzo gestured to the map behind him, indicating several points. “It’s an obvious maneuver, and the enemy will most likely be prepared for it. However, they have yet to receive word of you fresh blood. They believe our numbers will be lower than they are. _That_ is our advantage, and we will use it to become victorious.”

Shuzo held an amount of charisma that Tetsuya couldn’t deny, though it paled in comparison to Seijuro. The Captain was lacking the redhead’s utter confidence to carry his words with conviction. Even so, most of their unit seemed hopeful. Some still grumbled about getting turned into cannon fodder, but most had accepted that fate already.

Not Seijuro.

Never Seijuro.

“Don’t mind the strategy,” he whispered to their immediate group. Tetsuya spared him a glance. “I already have permission from the Commander to dictate our actions. Satsuki gained enough of a look at the future to know our placement for victory.”

Atsushi nodded, taking the opportunity to stare into space. Daiki yawned, and Ryota looked excited at the prospect of a special mission. Shintaro listened anyway. Tetsuya watched his leader and wondered just what was going through his head.

“We march tomorrow morning,” Shuzo concluded. “Be sure to eat and rest in preparation. Dismissed.”

The soldiers scattered, talking amongst themselves. Daiki shrugged off to get some last minute practice in, Ryota accompanying him. Atsushi could be lured away by promises of food and sleep without much effort. Red and green and light blue remained, Seijuro approaching Shuzo as the crowd thinned out. Within a few minutes, he returned to his fellow magic users.

“He’d already gotten word from the Commander,” the redhead reported. “Our strategy is approved, even if he seemed skeptic.”

“He wants to succeed, but he’s seen too much failure to get his hopes up,” Shintaro concluded. Tetsuya had gotten the same impression. “We’ll just need to follow through on our end. Then there won’t be any room for questions.”

“What is the strategy then?” Tetsuya asked. Talking while traveling hadn’t been an option, especially while trying to keep word of their powers under wraps to prevent a spread to the enemy. “Satsuki said this was going to be a turning point.”

Seijuro nodded. “Correct.” He held up three fingers. “This operation includes three main parts to be successful. The first is the ambush phase. We plan to lead the opposing army into a closed path. With Atsushi aiding the defenses, we’ll hold them in place while Shintaro works with the archers to take out as many as possible.”

“I’ll be increasing my rate of fire to be effective.” Given how deadly Shintaro’s aim alone was, the thought of it en masse would be a powerful weapon. “Once we’ve reduced their numbers or they make significant headway against the line of defense, the attack unit will step in to engage on a face to face level. Naturally, Daiki and Ryota will be part of this force.”

“Finally, a small but skilled unit will be traveling around to try and reach the command center of the army,” Seijuro continued. “The goal will be to force a surrender or to take out the chain of command. If we push from both sides at once, their army will crumble, and we can take back our lost ground and more.”

“So you’ll be going then, Seijuro,” Tetsuya guessed. Seijuro confirmed. Given the nature of their gathered magic, turning this plan into an overwhelming didn’t seem a monumental task. “Though, you didn’t mention me. Am I going to be in the vanguard then?”

Seijuro and Shintaro exchanged looks, both of them chuckling. “Sorry,” Seijuro said. “I thought you would catch on. Your abilities are best suited to stealth, so you’ll be taking that position. You’ll be coming with me.”

* * *

When Seijuro had mentioned “a small but skilled unit,” Tetsuya had imagined more than two people.

But there they were, riding at a distance from the enemy. He supposed it made sense; if they failed and were killed, the less able bodies wasted, the better. In any other situation, they would have been within enemy sights. Tetsuya’s magic wrapped around them and their horses, keeping them unseen.

The battle had started in the ravine. Distant cries melted into the morning air. It was already looking to be a scorcher, Tetsuya’s nose having gone too dry to properly smell anything but kicked up dirt. He couldn’t feel the leather reins gripped in his hands for all the pressure he was putting into it.

“We’re almost there,” Seijuro said after an hour of riding, the sun hanging at mid-height in the sky. Both soldiers halted their horses, dropping to their feet one after the other. Tetsuya thought he would have felt less exhausted if he had marched all the way back to his home on foot. “You don’t need to be nervous. Fate is on our side.”

Tetsuya tried to smile, but could only turn up one corner of his mouth. Seijuro patted his comrades shoulders before checking his gear. Tetsuya’s unperceivable aura flickered around him, maintaining their invisibility. Tetsuya left some of his magic resting over the horses as they trudged their way forward.

With each step towards the enemy, Tetsuya feared his magic would fail. There were still a fair number of soldiers in wait; the ongoing battle would be a long one if they were victorious. Any moment could bring enemies surrounding them, arrows shot at gaps in their armor, death by any number of means.

Seijuro strode forward, as if he were an emperor exploring the halls of his own palace.

They entered the encampment without alerting any of the guards. Not many men were present, but there were enough to be a threat. Satsuki’s prediction combined with Seijuro’s magic-enhanced vision lead a trail towards the back line of their forces, a number of higher ranking soldiers issuing commands. Runners carried their orders and reported on situations across the battlefield in a matter of coordination Tetsuya’s side simply didn’t have.

Within earshot of their targets, Seijuro ignored their words. He drew his stiletto and wrote a number of magic symbols in the air. Each glowed red once, then dispersed as it was cast. Satisfied, Seijuro lowered his weapon but did not sheathe it. He then turned to Tetsuya.

“Only release the spell on me, but keep yourself concealed,” he ordered. “If it comes to a fight, stay on the fringes and take out as many as you can without getting noticed. If I give the signal, turn me back to invisible. If I give the order, retreat to the horses and we’ll return to camp. Is that understood?”

“Yes.”

There were no such orders with the words _if I die_.

Tetsuya dropped his spell and watched Seijuro advance. The stiletto formed one more rune, accentuated by Seijuro’s sharp voice:

“Nobody move.”

Several members of the opposing leadership attempted to move, only to remain frozen in place.

“Ah, I was unclear. What I meant to say was _you can’t move._ Now, which one of you is the commander?” All were too stunned to answer. Seijuro continued stepping forward, his stiletto at his side. He stopped in front of the man at the center, with enough ornamentation to mark him above the others. Seijuro pointed his stiletto at the man’s face. “You, I presume. Call off your forces and retreat.”

The man regained enough sense to laugh. “A brat on the battlefield,” he spat. “You really are done for. _You_ are the ones that should be retreating.”

With a graceful flick of his wrist, Seijuro cut a thin line of blood across the other man’s forehead.

“That wasn’t a request,” the redhead said, maintaining his matter of fact tone. The addition of a sense of authority was not lost on Tetsuya. No matter how many times he witnessed it, Seijuro’s natural leadership stunned him. “Last chance. Call off your army or face death.”

“You think you can stop us by a simple execution? My soldiers follow my commands regardless. They won’t be cowed by the loss of their leader.” For a man who couldn’t move to defend himself, he sure knew how to act with bluster. “Go on and kill me. You’ll die for nothing anyway.”

“I see.” Seijuro added another rune to the air. This one held, reflecting in the enemy’s eyes before shrinking and imprinting on his forehead. Duplicates of the rune appeared across the other soldier’s foreheads as well, all of the marks fading like a dying ember. “As you can see, I possess all the abilities my coloring suggests I would. And with that, I’ve disintegrated your chain of command from you all the way down.”

 _Command Break._ It was Seijuro’s most powerful spell for the moment. While the rest allowed him to effect enemy’s immediate actions, this one remained in place and could stretch across the bonds of words. Anyone that had been ordered by the enemy commander—or had received his orders through another—would no longer be bound by them. Tetsuya couldn’t do anything to compare. Any further orders the man gave would fall flat, his capacity for authority crippled.

That only held if he’d have been allowed to live.

“Think well of yourself. You served to hand victory to your enemy.”

Seijuro jammed his stiletto through the man’s heart, pulling a spare knife from his side to slice the man’s throat. Releasing himself from the strain of his momentum lock spell, Seijuro danced back with an arc of blood as one of the enemy officers charged forward to avenge his commander.

Seijuro saw his path, countered, and moved on to the next one. Tetsuya moved in to the fringes, his throwing knives knocking enemies off balance, his daggers taking on the weight of releasing men from their lives. He made sure to stay invisible, and he made sure to keep Seijuro in his sights.

Not once did the redhead give the signal render himself invisible. Not once did he allow an enemy to strike him.

Not even the opposing army was given the chance to call for a retreat.

* * *

Tetsuya had been too exhausted by the end of the battle to know what all had happened. Apparently the rest of his unit had lead a successful push in the mountain pass. The enemy’s numbers dwindled, and the overall losses for their side were minimal. The soldiers who had survived the previous gauntlet of the battlefield were relieved to achieve victory.

Their unit was noted as being a key force in bringing a win to the battle. They were praised. There was a short day of rest for celebration. Word from Satsuki reached the Commander, and then they were shipped out to the next turning point of a battlefield.

They had won one battle, but their intention had always been to win the war.

* * *

That battlefield tilted in their favor easily. As did the next. And the next.

With each army victorious, many soldiers were free to return to their homes. Many stayed, bolstered by the success of the magic-users. Each time they stepped forward, their numbers and support grew. Piece by piece, Seijuro lead a campaign across the country, stepping up in military ranks with ease. He chose locations with Satsuki’s guidance, crafted strategies with Shintaro’s assistance. Piece by piece, they expanded their influence within Teiko, leaving peace in their wake.

Tetsuya had never considered war to bring peace, but it seemed it would be the only path the story of their country could take.

Before anyone knew it, Teiko had achieved a unified state of peace. The number of soldiers backing them seemed just as much of legend as the abilities Tetsuya and his friends had been born with. At this point, infighting was no longer the issue. Instead, outside countries licked at the borders, having been taking advantage of the chaos within the country for resources.

“At this point, I would like to offer you all a chance to go home,” Seijuro addressed the army, his immediate comrades behind him. Throughout the battles, Seijuro’s magic had grown to tint his left eye gold. “You have all fought to give this country peace, as you were recruited to do. We have achieved that, and if you wish to stand back, then I’ll allow it. But if you wish to keep fighting, there is more we can do to keep others from tainting our lands once more with war.”

Not a single soldier left their ranks.

* * *

The campfire crackled in the evening air. The scent of cooking venison had captured Atsushi’s attention, keeping him awake. With a country at peace, they could allow a bit of luxury. Even Satsuki had been allowed out of hiding, instead held within the protection of Teiko’s most capable soldiers. The children of unusual color, just turning to adults, chatted amongst themselves of the future.

“That offer I gave the men,” said Seijuro, cutting all conversations short. “It applies to you all as well. Even if one of you steps away, we’ll be able to continue the momentum of Fate we’ve created. If any of you wish to return home, I’d be remiss to say you didn’t deserve it.”

All seven of them sat in silence.

“On my pride as a soldier, I won’t back down.”

“Meh. Who’d want to leave a fight like this?”

“If Dai’s not going home, then I won’t, either.”

“Besides, with Seicchi leading us, there’s nothing we can’t do!”

“It’s easier holding a defense than it is working on the farm…”

And Tetsuya had come too far to even think of letting another battle spark too close to his home.

“We’re counting on you to lead us, Seijuro,” he said.

Seijuro looked over them all with his dual colored gaze. “And I’ll be counting on you all as well.”

* * *

Tetsuya managed to write one more letter to let his mother and Shigehiro know he would be continuing to fight—and then any time to think of home was wiped away.

Teiko had been in a state of civil war for some time. With the battles of the Gods going on, most countries were fighting in some form. The number of armies coming to Teiko was high, and Tetsuya couldn’t keep up with who all they were fighting. Daiki didn’t bother. He focused on carving through battlefields. Tetsuya took turns fighting by his side and taking on infiltration missions to learn about and incapacitate the enemy.

One by one, the invading armies retreated.

* * *

“It’s a bit strange to be meeting up like this when we’re usually fighting each other.”

“Who cares? We just follow the prayers.”

“So uncouth. Still, I think it’s fitting. A group of those who can challenge Gods has come together and is leading an army.”

“That could be dangerous… I have enough protection prayers as it is.”

“Feh. Who even cares about your stupid protections? I say we just let them be. War’s more fun when you have interesting opponents to face down.”

And so the current era of Gods—the Uncrowned—allowed their new opponents to foster their strength.

Then four of the five, wishing to test their strength, declared open war across the map.

The fifth stayed away from such conflicts, instead spreading his protections across the land.

* * *

“The Gods have declared war on us,” Seijuro said, but no one hesitated.

They were, after all, _those who could stand up to Gods._

Even so, Tetsuya was left with feelings of concern. The more battles they fought in, everyone’s magic increased. Shintaro didn’t break a sweat sending out volleys of arrows at once. Atsushi could provide competent strikes as well as defenses. Satsuki’s visions became more detailed, and she was no longer as exhausted when she intentionally searched for a thread of fate. Ryota could imitate even low level spells, and Daiki could take out an entire oncoming battalion with a swipe of his broad sword.

Tetsuya could now manipulate the shadows beyond just becoming them.

Seijuro could command anyone, even enemies, and the golden glow of his left eye became stronger as they days passed.

* * *

Tetsuya wished he could have taken note of the first time they defeated one of the Uncrowned Gods. In truth, it felt just as easy as the ordinary battles they had fought up until that point.

No one could decide whether or not to feel surprised by the act.

And then they defeated their second, and everyone considered it such an act of Fate that they had nothing to fear.

* * *

In truth, Tetsuya didn’t know where he fought anymore. He only knew that if they pressed forward, this would come to an end. The third Uncrowned God had fallen. None of them were dead, just defeated in battle. With their absolute positions as Gods brought into question, they lost a great deal of their power and had no choice but to retreat into obscurity.

That left one more.

Tetsuya didn’t even remember his name.

He didn’t remember the number of soldiers his own army had backing him.

He didn’t remember what had happened to his comrades—now that they had gained power beyond men.

He didn’t remember—

He remembered _home._

_I want…to go back._

Even if it meant that he would leave a chance of war one day returning to his home, he wanted to leave this place.

* * *

In the midst of their last battlefield, he caught it.

A streak of orange.

A presence of magic that felt new and old at once.

A figure holding a sword in his remaining arm, the open wound on the other side.

A strike aimed at him that carried enough force to send a shiver through his dagger as he blocked.

* * *

“…Tetsuya.”

“Shigehiro.”

* * *

He almost couldn’t recognize him. There was no mistaking his best friend, even as the years had changed him. He was by now probably approaching his thirties. The sort of age where a man had a family.

Tetsuya, much like his compatriots, had only aged a few years.

* * *

_He didn’t remember how much time they had been fighting._

* * *

It mattered little in comparison to saving Shigehiro’s life. Tetsuya abandoned his cause, carried his friend with a strength he hadn’t realized he’d gained, sealed his wound with magic, and left the battlefield. Whatever his comrades—his _former_ comrades were fighting for anymore didn’t matter if Tetsuya wasn’t protecting his home.

In the end, they went _home_.

His mother saw them and tended to them. She cried when she thought her son wasn’t watching. Tetsuya cried, too.

Somewhere along the line, they had ascended to the very Gods they had the ability to overcome.

Tetsuya didn’t care. He helped Shigehiro rehabilitate, helped his mother with the merchant goods. Once word got out that he had returned, no one in town questioned his unaged appearance, how little they had changed. They accepted the God of Magic and Shadows into their midst, and life went on.

* * *

Countries away, the five New Gods overcame the last of the challenging Uncrowned Gods.

The Age of Miracles began.


End file.
